Gas Station Romance - A Story
Wednesday, August of 2007. The fateful night when everything didn’t change.
I was driving across the state of Nevada in my Chevy, a worn out pick-up I inherited. A piece of junk, didn’t even have any air conditioning. What can I expect though, it’s not like the old man ever liked me. Probably thought it was a great joke, “Give the beater to the one nephew with no mechanical savvy! Ha ha ha!”
Bastard.
I hate Nevada, by the way. Sorriest fuckin’ state I’ve ever laid eyes on. Nothing lives there, everybody and everything’s just in one stage of death or another. What‘s the appeal of a giant desert, the landscape of which is dotted with shitholes and tweaker towns? The main attraction, Las Vegas!!!, is a terrific place to lose all your money and gain a couple of exotic diseases. And the people! So many assholes there it attracts stray dogs from other continents.
It was at the outskirts of one of the aforementioned tweaker towns that it happened. It was about eleven at night, the moon was half full. I was getting tired of listening to the silence, so I tried the radio. Static, static, static, mariachi music, static… I put in a tape. George Thorogood. “Not my favorite, but I guess I should be thankful the tape player even works,” is what I thought just before the cassette was spit back out at me, magnetic tape still caught in the jaws of the machine. Swearing, I tore the thing out of the player and threw it out the window. That dickhead uncle of mine was probably having a good laugh from beyond the grave. My only comfort is the knowledge that, in the end, the worms got the dickhead’s balls.
I saw the all night gas station on the side of the road and pulled in. I was still half full, but the price was decent and I never knew where the next station would be in. There was only one other car in the parking lot.
Even before I went in I saw that the place was an absolute dump. There may have been paint on the walls, but you couldn’t tell by looking, too obscured were they by graffiti symbols, used gum, and mindless insults hurled at people the authors never knew. The sign that had once proudly declared, via neon chorus, that this establishment was indeed a gas station now had only one letter feebly holding out against all odds. In spite of losing all of his fellows, he endeavored to bring his message to the people, hoping that perhaps he could inform a few more members of humanity that there was fuel here to be had, before his flickering light at last succumbed to the eternal darkness. Coughing up blood red neon light, he proudly proclaimed, “S!”
I realized how hungry I was as I walked inside. This feeling, surprisingly, was not dissuaded by the swarms of roaches I saw fleeing from my falling feet. I had eaten a breakfast of canned frijoles, and I had driven through lunch and dinner. Despite the sudden and painful death that would most likely result if I ate anything I found in the gas station, I began perusing the aisles.
I settled on a bag of beef jerky, a can of pepsi, and a box of tiny donuts for the morning, and I went to the counter to pay. As I turned to leave my eyes met those of a young woman who was just walking into the store. I stopped in my tracks, as she did, and we both just stood staring at each other. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
She was tall and thin, with raven black hair and bright green eyes. Her face was perfectly symmetrical, the shape of a tear drop. She wore a t-shirt and jeans, no jewelry or makeup, but I don’t think there’s any clothing or accessory on the planet that could have enhanced her. In her stance was strength, but there was a duality in her, a need for protection also. In my mind I saw a progression of images. I saw the two of us lying on the grass, laughing at nothing. I saw us in bed, our bodies intertwined, rapture on our faces. I saw her in a white gown, and myself in a tuxedo. I had never been happier in my life. I saw us sitting on the porch, watching happily as a little boy with raven black hair played on the front lawn.
Suddenly, I was in the gas station once more, standing in the same place as before. I have no idea how long we stood there, my mind screaming, “Talk to her! Say something you idiot!” There was a longing in her eyes that seared my very soul.
“Do you need something, buddy?” said the attendant behind the counter. And just like that, the moment was over. She looked away quickly, and I mumbled in the negative towards the attendant. Embarrassed, I hastily exited the gas station and went to my truck. I opened the door and threw my groceries in the passenger seat. The truck started easily, surprisingly enough, and I drove furiously out of the parking lot.
I got maybe four miles before what had happened registered in my mind. I immediately slammed on the brakes and cursed myself for being so stupid. Turning the truck around, I sped back towards the gas station, praying to a god I didn’t think existed that I wasn’t too late.
There was only one other car in the parking lot of the gas station, the same one that had been there when I first arrived. The attendant still stood behind the counter looking bored. The roaches still scurried between the shadows. The paint on the walls was still invisible. On the sign that once had proven to the whole world that this gas station existed, there was not a single flicker of neon light.
When a friend of mine finished reading this story, he sat back and sighed. “That’s pretty good. So what happens next?”
Nothing happens next. That’s it, all there is. I was inspired by those moments you see in movies, when all the sudden you know that two people are meant for each other. No matter what happens in that movie, you know they will wind up together. You find plenty of these “moments” in real life, but nothing comes of them, because that’s not what a relationship is. Is there a connection, a spark? Could they get together and fall in love? Yes and yes. But they don’t. All they have now is the memory, that one moment where their hearts touched through the empty air. But life, for all intents and purposes, goes on.
Maybe it’s not the prettiest, or the most inspiring, or the most satisfying story of love. The point I’m making is that when a man is given only a moment, he can cherish and love that moment for what it is, and wanting more is nothing but greed.
Don’t like it? That’s fine. Neither did my friend.
Until next time,
<3
I was driving across the state of Nevada in my Chevy, a worn out pick-up I inherited. A piece of junk, didn’t even have any air conditioning. What can I expect though, it’s not like the old man ever liked me. Probably thought it was a great joke, “Give the beater to the one nephew with no mechanical savvy! Ha ha ha!”
Bastard.
I hate Nevada, by the way. Sorriest fuckin’ state I’ve ever laid eyes on. Nothing lives there, everybody and everything’s just in one stage of death or another. What‘s the appeal of a giant desert, the landscape of which is dotted with shitholes and tweaker towns? The main attraction, Las Vegas!!!, is a terrific place to lose all your money and gain a couple of exotic diseases. And the people! So many assholes there it attracts stray dogs from other continents.
It was at the outskirts of one of the aforementioned tweaker towns that it happened. It was about eleven at night, the moon was half full. I was getting tired of listening to the silence, so I tried the radio. Static, static, static, mariachi music, static… I put in a tape. George Thorogood. “Not my favorite, but I guess I should be thankful the tape player even works,” is what I thought just before the cassette was spit back out at me, magnetic tape still caught in the jaws of the machine. Swearing, I tore the thing out of the player and threw it out the window. That dickhead uncle of mine was probably having a good laugh from beyond the grave. My only comfort is the knowledge that, in the end, the worms got the dickhead’s balls.
I saw the all night gas station on the side of the road and pulled in. I was still half full, but the price was decent and I never knew where the next station would be in. There was only one other car in the parking lot.
Even before I went in I saw that the place was an absolute dump. There may have been paint on the walls, but you couldn’t tell by looking, too obscured were they by graffiti symbols, used gum, and mindless insults hurled at people the authors never knew. The sign that had once proudly declared, via neon chorus, that this establishment was indeed a gas station now had only one letter feebly holding out against all odds. In spite of losing all of his fellows, he endeavored to bring his message to the people, hoping that perhaps he could inform a few more members of humanity that there was fuel here to be had, before his flickering light at last succumbed to the eternal darkness. Coughing up blood red neon light, he proudly proclaimed, “S!”
I realized how hungry I was as I walked inside. This feeling, surprisingly, was not dissuaded by the swarms of roaches I saw fleeing from my falling feet. I had eaten a breakfast of canned frijoles, and I had driven through lunch and dinner. Despite the sudden and painful death that would most likely result if I ate anything I found in the gas station, I began perusing the aisles.
I settled on a bag of beef jerky, a can of pepsi, and a box of tiny donuts for the morning, and I went to the counter to pay. As I turned to leave my eyes met those of a young woman who was just walking into the store. I stopped in my tracks, as she did, and we both just stood staring at each other. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
She was tall and thin, with raven black hair and bright green eyes. Her face was perfectly symmetrical, the shape of a tear drop. She wore a t-shirt and jeans, no jewelry or makeup, but I don’t think there’s any clothing or accessory on the planet that could have enhanced her. In her stance was strength, but there was a duality in her, a need for protection also. In my mind I saw a progression of images. I saw the two of us lying on the grass, laughing at nothing. I saw us in bed, our bodies intertwined, rapture on our faces. I saw her in a white gown, and myself in a tuxedo. I had never been happier in my life. I saw us sitting on the porch, watching happily as a little boy with raven black hair played on the front lawn.
Suddenly, I was in the gas station once more, standing in the same place as before. I have no idea how long we stood there, my mind screaming, “Talk to her! Say something you idiot!” There was a longing in her eyes that seared my very soul.
“Do you need something, buddy?” said the attendant behind the counter. And just like that, the moment was over. She looked away quickly, and I mumbled in the negative towards the attendant. Embarrassed, I hastily exited the gas station and went to my truck. I opened the door and threw my groceries in the passenger seat. The truck started easily, surprisingly enough, and I drove furiously out of the parking lot.
I got maybe four miles before what had happened registered in my mind. I immediately slammed on the brakes and cursed myself for being so stupid. Turning the truck around, I sped back towards the gas station, praying to a god I didn’t think existed that I wasn’t too late.
There was only one other car in the parking lot of the gas station, the same one that had been there when I first arrived. The attendant still stood behind the counter looking bored. The roaches still scurried between the shadows. The paint on the walls was still invisible. On the sign that once had proven to the whole world that this gas station existed, there was not a single flicker of neon light.
When a friend of mine finished reading this story, he sat back and sighed. “That’s pretty good. So what happens next?”
Nothing happens next. That’s it, all there is. I was inspired by those moments you see in movies, when all the sudden you know that two people are meant for each other. No matter what happens in that movie, you know they will wind up together. You find plenty of these “moments” in real life, but nothing comes of them, because that’s not what a relationship is. Is there a connection, a spark? Could they get together and fall in love? Yes and yes. But they don’t. All they have now is the memory, that one moment where their hearts touched through the empty air. But life, for all intents and purposes, goes on.
Maybe it’s not the prettiest, or the most inspiring, or the most satisfying story of love. The point I’m making is that when a man is given only a moment, he can cherish and love that moment for what it is, and wanting more is nothing but greed.
Don’t like it? That’s fine. Neither did my friend.
Until next time,
<3